Will graham

Forcing himself to socialize wasn’t what Will wanted the most — but he had agreed to help Jack Crawford with his case, which meant to socialize a lot more than what the teacher would have liked.

Will had no problem with you, per say, only the fact that you couldn’t stop talking. Rambling and muttering, never stopping your mouth running — which was so distracting. Yet, he couldn’t find the courage to tell you to stop.

No, not when you were also the distraction from his thoughts — from the anxiety filling his body. From the hallucinations.

It was always a one-way conversation when you were talking but that didn’t stop you; from asking questions to Will. How were his classes? Did he like art? The type of books he liked? You were a bit noisy, to say it politely.

Will had to finally draw the line when you had asked him about the lack of eye contact he gave to people — to you. Something Crawford had told you to drop, saying how Lecter had forced the subject before.

“I just don’t like it. Eyes are distracting to me. You see too much or you don’t see enough. Looking at someone so deeply feels like seeing their soul.” he said, giving you just a side glance as if to prove a point before looking back at the file in his hands.